ith him?" he asked.

The man laughed. "Guess that's not going to bring him. It will be
daylight, any way, before he lets up. You'll have to go right in."

Wheeler dropped cautiously upon a slippery staging, across which the
water flowed, and, crawling into the heading, with a blinking light in
his eyes, fell into a sled that was loaded with broken rock. He crept
round the obstruction, and a few moments later found himself knee-deep
in water before a little dam that had been thrown across the heading.
The heading dipped sharply beyond it, which somewhat astonished him,
and when he had climbed over the barricade, he descended cautiously,
groping towards another light. Big drops of water fell upon him, and
here and there a jet of it spurted out. At last he stopped, and saw
Nasmyth lying, partly raised on one elbow, in an inch or two of water,
while he painfully swung a heavy hammer. The heading was lined with
stout pillars, made of sawn-up firs, and Nasmyth appeared to be
driving a wedge under one of them. Two or three other men were putting
heavy masses of timber into place.

The smoky flame of a little lamp flared upon the rock above, which
trickled with moisture, and the light fell upon Nasmyth's wet face,
which was deeply flushed. Nasmyth gasped heavily, and great splashes
of sand and mire lay thick upon his torn, drenched shirt. He appeared
to see Wheeler, for he looked up, but he did not stop until he had
driven the wedge in. Then he rose to his knees and stretched himself
wearily.

"The rock's badly fissured. We've got to get double timbers in as soon
as we can," he explained. "I'm going to do some boring. We'll go
along."

Wheeler crept after him down the inclined heading until they reached
the spot where Gordon sat crouched over a machine. Gordon did not move
until Nasmyth seized his shoulders.

"You can get back to the wedging, and send two or three boys along to
heave the water out. I'll keep this thing going," he said.

Gordon, who greeted Wheeler, floundered away, and Wheeler sat down in
the dryest spot he could find, while Nasmyth grasped the handle of the
machine.

"There's no reason why you shouldn't smoke," he said.

"That," replied Wheeler, "is a point I'm not quite sure about. How
many sticks of giant-powder have you rammed into this heading? As you
know, it's apt to be a little uncertain."

Nasmyth laughed as he glanced at the flaring lamp above his head.
"There's a hole with a stick in it